


Of Course I Forgive

by signalbeam



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Bad Ending, Bad bad end, Community: badbadbathhouse, F/M, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-09
Updated: 2009-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signalbeam/pseuds/signalbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souji returns to Inaba after the bad end and finds everything is not as he left it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Course I Forgive

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the badbadbathhouse prompt: _Souji returns to Inaba post-bad-end and finds all of his friends have become or are becoming shadows._

Inaba doesn’t haunt him when he returns to the city. He stops dreaming: no Personae, no Namatame, nothing in the back of his mind but himself. Nanako is gone, but so is everyone else, and that, at least, is comforting.

He doesn’t watch TV anymore, barely even touches his phone. His voicemail is full, and the one time he answered it, all the messages had been cries for help. Souji, help me. Souji, help me. Souji, help me. Instead he writes letters, pens them out meticulously, stroke by stroke. Eri Minami responds bright, cheery, and becomes progressively gloomier; Shu stops writing after the third reply. Yosuke’s are off-hand, and sometimes blotted with ink. Soon they’re only a line or two long, but Souji keeps writing anyway. He can’t bring himself to stop. Yosuke must be all right, him of all people. Chie and Yukiko often send their letters in the same envelope, but one day there’s a shift, and they send their sentiments in the same letter in florid, all-too-beautiful writing. Kanji’s are typically clumsy, until he starts talking about dating girls, isn’t it great about them _girls_ isn’t it wonderful to be dating them _girls_. Rise, like Dojima, writes a few letters, and then no more than that. Naoto never sends him anything.

His parents tell him he should go back to Inaba for summer vacation. He takes that as a hint that they’re disturbed by him, completely weirded out. He goes. The fog deepens, darkens. He can barely see anything. The glasses help, a little, but even then he doesn’t want to look.

Yosuke’s waiting for him on his bike.

“Hope you don’t mind, partner,” he says. There’s a note of contempt that Souji tries to ignore.

“You got your license,” he says. “Congratulations.”

The envine revs. Yosuke doesn’t answer him. He slips on a pair of orange goggles over his eyes and tosses Souji a helmet.

“Are you staying at your uncle’s place?”

“I didn’t tell him I was here.”

“Then where are you staying?”

“Kanji offered me a bed.”

“Are you really planning on staying with that faggot?” Yosuke cuts himself off. Souji’s glad he can’t see the expression on Yosuke’s face. “Look, Souji, you aren’t going to be safe with Tatsumi.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You _won’t be_.” The motorcycle pulls forward so fast and so hard that for a moment Souji’s dizzy. It’s like traveling in a tunnel, he thinks: can’t see anything except what’s inside the car. Yosuke’s hellbent, driving like a monster, and for a moment Souji’s afraid. Just for a moment. “Stay at my place tonight,” Yosuke says. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen my room.”

 

\---

 

They stop at the gas station for a refill. Souji asks if Yosuke minds waiting, and Yosuke’s reply is clipped: Yes, partner, I do mind waiting. My shift at Junes starts in half an hour.

Fine, then. He’ll walk to Yosuke’s place later. He wants to have a look around the shopping district.

Well then, Yosuke says, fine. But there isn’t going to be anything here you like. And then he drives away.

People are inside. The shops are closed or unmanned. He steps into the tofu shop, and there’s silence there. He calls to the back of the shop, and someone says, rather leadenly, “Welcome to the Marukyu tofu shop. You want something?”

“Rise?” he asks.

And there she is, over on the counter, dressed in the apron and bandana tied over her head. She brightens up when she sees him. “Oh. Souji-kun.” And then there’s the characteristic overflow of affection, the grab for the arm, the hug— and she’s tracing light circles around on his wrist.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she asks, almost nostalgic. “It’s too bad you left town. Why don’t you come inside?”

Aren’t I already in, he wants to ask. But then she’s taking him up to her room, tossing the apron aside, letting her hair loose.

“Look at me,” she says with a laugh. “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

“How have you been?” he asks, and then realizes, a moment too late, that it’s the wrong thing to say.

“Have you heard from your uncle?” she says instead. “Adachi-san's the chief detective now.”

“Is he. I’m glad for him.” He's never liked Adachi.

“Souji-kun, didn’t you hear?” She seems to be pitying him. She leans over to stroke his face.

“I didn’t.”

“Not about Adachi-san. I mean about your uncle.” She unbuttons her blouse, almost absentmindedly.

“What about him?”

“If you really want to know,” she says, “then eyes over here.” She jerks his chin to meet her eyes. She giggles, and pushes her breasts together with her arms. Completely unchaste, he thinks, and is nearly offended. She moves in for a kiss, but when he pulls back, she pouts at him, and tugs at his collar. “You really didn’t hear?”

“No,” he says.

Her expression is calm. Her eyes burn yellow in the fog. She presses her eyes closed, breathes in deep. When she opens them again, they’re brown, and Souji’s flooded with an immeasurable sense of relief. “Souji-senpai, I’m sorry,” she says, and takes his hands into hers. “Your uncle committed suicide two months ago.”

 

\---

 

The news fazes him less than he expects. Maybe he expected it, after his uncle stopped replying; but what he can’t understand is why his mother doesn’t know, why he doesn’t know the news until just now. Well, he thinks, it's too bad. But it isn't as though there was anything left for the man. Dojima is at a better place now.

He goes to the north shopping district, half-expecting to see the errand boy by Aiya, or to see Kou and Daisuke. Instead he ends up at Tatsuhime shrine, half dizzy with shock and fog. He doesn’t expect to see Kanji in the shrine with a half-naked girl.

“Hey, senpai,” Kanji says. “Didn’t expect to see you here so soon. This is my girlfriend, Kanzaki.”

He doesn’t have a clue who the girl is, and he suspects he isn’t meant to. “Nice to meet you,” he says. “Excuse me.”

“No, senpai, wait!” And Kanji tosses the girl aside unceremoniously and catches up with him. “C’mon, why don’t you come over to my house? Been so long. Why don’t we enjoy ourselves a bit?”

“You should take care of Kanzaki-san.”

“Nah, not like she’s important to me or anything.” Kanji’s taking him by the arm and steering him to Tatsumi Textiles. The shop, at least, looks familiar. He sees a familiar scarf, but isn't sure why it's familiar, or why it looks so much like a noose. “Man, you got no idea how glad I am to see you again, senpai. Have you seen any of the others so far?”

“Yosuke dropped me off here. I just came from Rise’s.”

Kanji’s expression darkens. “That damn bitch,” he growls. “What did she do to you?”

“Nothing," he says, because that's really all that happened.

“You can’t say shit like that, senpai, not if you’re a real man.” Kanji strips Souji’s shirt off before he can even say ‘no’, inspecting Souji’s face. “Did she try to rape you?”

“No,” he says, but he’s not really sure.

“C’mon, senpai, you can’t let women fuck you over like that. You’re supposed to be the one in control, not them. Don’t you hate it when pussies try to step outta bounds? Ain’t right.”

“You shouldn’t speak of them like that,” Souji says. “Stop it.”

“No point in disguising the truth,” says Kanji. “A true relationship can’t be between a man and a woman. Not when a woman can’t know what it means t’be a man, you know?” He’s so earnest and eager that Souji can hardly believe what he’s hearing. “C’mon, senpai,” Kanji says. “You know what I want. I bet you’re all stressed from your ride here.”

“I should get going.” He stands, but Kanji has his wrist, and is pulling him into a kiss, rough and coarse. Teeth run on his lips, and the way Kanji’s hands are working at his pants, stroking him through the cloth, is alarmingly pleasing.

His belt falls to the floor, and his pants slide around his ankles. Kanji’s pushing him against the counter, grinding their hips together, and he’s responding, _fuck_. Kanji’s at his neck, nipping and sucking. A hand is at his cock, stroking and fisting, another at his balls, and then Kanji’s opening up Souji’s shirt.

“Senpai,” he says, “you know what I mean, right?”

“Wait,” Souji says. Kanji’s eyes are bright and yellow and his hands feel so good that he can’t bring himself to say ‘stop’. His hips jerk up to meet Kanji’s hand, and then Kanji has him in his mouth. His hips buckle. Kanji’s hands are at his buttocks, gripping them with confident, easy strength, and Souji’s half convinced if he’s not going to go crazy with Kanji’s chin at his balls, then Kanji just might break him two with his fingers. He comes, hard, into Kanji’s mouth, and Kanji keeps him in there in his mouth for a moment longer, running his tongue over his cock until, god forbid, Souji’s half hard again. The laugh seals the deal, and then Kanji withdraws, wiping at his lips.

“You’re a greedy bastard, senpai,” he says. And then he lifts Souji up, presses him against the wall, and _grinds_. Kanji’s thrusting against him, cock against Souji’s thigh, and Souji can barely see straight. He has half a mind to tell Kanji to let go of him, before there are bruises in compromising places, but then his legs are wrapping around Kanji’s waist and _god. God._

He doesn’t go visit anyone else after Kanji.

 

\---

 

Yosuke’s parents are gone for business. The house is empty and foggy. He can see why Yosuke didn’t mind having Teddie around. At night the house is uncomfortably empty, large.

“You visited Kanji, didn’t you?” Yosuke asks when Souji steps out of the shower.

He shrugs, rubs the towel into his hair. “What if I did?”

“I can’t believe you’d hang out with that fag.” Yosuke looks genuinely pained. “I mean, he’s just—it isn’t right. You know he’s trying to hide it from us by pretending to have all those girlfriends, but fags like him just want to fuck whatever moves. You didn’t stay for long, did you? Did you visit your old girlfriend?”

“I didn’t.”

“Fuck, Souji. You didn’t let him touch you, did you?”

Souji doesn’t answer, but thinks, quietly, in his head, So what if I did?

Yosuke rolls out the spare futon. “Hey, I was thinking,” he says. “Now that I got my license, I could go back to the city. No point in sticking around in the boonies, huh? Nothing to do.”

“You told me that you liked living up here.”

Yosuke snorts. He turns off the light. “Night, partner.”

Souji lies awake for a long time.

 

\---

 

Yosuke has work at Junes again the next day. Souji goes back to the shopping district, returns to Marukyu. Rise is there again, an unfocused look in her eyes. She stares at her glasses, and smiles up at him.

“Strange, isn’t it?” she says. “Your visit reminded me of these. When I wear these, it makes me feel a little better. How are you?”

“I’m not too bad,” he says. “Could I have a ganmo?”

“Sure.” She folds the glasses and puts them into the pocket of her apron. “Are you going to visit anyone else?”

“Should I?”

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to visit everyone. Naoto-kun went overseas. I think she wanted some kind of operation.”

“What about Chie and Yukiko?” he asks, half dreading what he’ll hear.

“Yukiko-senpai's staying at Chie-senpai’s house now. I think she had an argument with her parents or something and tried to run away from home. Chie-senpai stopped her and they’re _together_ now. That’s the main reason why Yosuke-senpai won’t talk to either of them.”

“Good for them,” Souji says, but for some reason the news makes his stomach turn in knots. “Have you noticed anything strange about the town lately?”

“Oh, sure. Everyone’s either left or gone nuts.”

“What about you?”

Rise’s quiet for a while. She puts the glasses on, pushes them up her nose. “Sometimes,” she says, “when I turn on the TV, I see Namatame in there.” Rise hands him the ganmo, and smiles sadly. “I can’t hear Kanzeon anymore.”

 

\---

 

He still remembers where Chie’s house is, but it’s a miracle he can see anything through the fog. He ends up on the banks of the Samegawa with the summer strangely distant and far away.

“Souji-kun.” Someone calls to him from the water. There is Yukiko, in her summer dress, swimming with Chie. They’re both fully clothed, and there’s a chilly distance between them. “You didn’t tell us you were in town.”

“I didn’t think I’d be back,” he says. He steps into the water, and shivers. Chie’s watching him from afar.

“I’m sorry about your uncle,” Yukiko says. “It isn’t your fault.”

“I know.” But then he feels something twist.

“Where are you going, Seta-kun?” Chie asks. Seta-kun. He doesn’t think Chie’s ever called him that.

“I was looking for something,” he says.

“What were you looking for?” Yukiko asks.

He shrugs, because in truth, he doesn’t think Chie will take it well if he says that he went looking for the two of them. Chie doesn’t exactly look all that pleased with him right now, either.

“The cemetary’s a bit off that way,” Yukiko says. “I can take you there.”

“Yukiko—”

“Don’t be silly, Chie,” Yukiko says coldly as she steps out of the water. She wrings the water from her hair. “I’ll come back for you.”

 

\---

 

“When are you returning to the city?” Yukiko asks. She has him by the elbow, but maintains a distance as they walk to the cemetary.

“At the end of the week,” he says.

“I see,” she murmurs. “Perhaps you could take me with you.”

“I doubt my parents will be pleased if I come home with a girl.”

Her laughter is cool and icy. Her grip tightens, curls around his arm. “Do you think they'll be happy if you bring home Yosuke-kun?” He's about to say that he doesn't want Yosuke, but then she tilts his face to her and says, "It doesn't matter what you want, Souji-kun. It won't go well. Nothing will." Then she nods over to the grass. He doesn't want to, but her skin gets hot and he's almost afraid that he'll be burned if he doesn't lie down. He does, and she lies next to him, a smile tight on her lips and her hands flush against his chest.

“I’ll show you why,” she murmurs, and her lips are on his jaw. Her skin is smooth, soft beneath his. When she casts her clothes aside, there are scratches and bruises along her torso, on her legs, stopping just short of her skirt hem, the size of Chie’s hands. He doesn’t comment on it, if only because Yukiko’s pressing against the bruises Kanji left behind on his legs and the hickies that he managed to hide beneath his popped collar. Her fingers wrap around his dick, and for a moment, they both freeze. Then her hand moves.

The thing is, neither of them want this, or at least, Souji hopes so. But he can't make himself stop, either. It feels nice, almost. And he can almost pretend that he's doing this because he likes her. This makes sense, her jerking him off like this.

"There," he mutters. "That's good." He reaches for her breasts, and runs his hand down her stomach and pushes her skirt down. "Hurry up. I'm not going to wait for you."

They never do make it to the cemetary, and when he returns Yukiko to Chie, there’s a tension between the two that makes something in him shiver. Their eyes are yellow as they confront one another, and when they kiss, he knows that nothing here is all right.

 

\---

 

He meets Adachi on his way back to Yosuke’s house. Something about the man repulses him, and it takes him a moment to know why: he looks happy.

“Souji-kun,” Adachi greets him. “Great day, isn’t it?”

Souji pretends he doesn’t see the detective, and walks on.

 

\---

 

“I bet you visited those two dykes,” Yosuke says when Souji returns to his house. “God, Souji, you can’t keep talking to these kinds of people.”

“All right.” It isn’t, really, but he's learned that Yosuke's full of shit, anyhow.

“See? I knew you’d come around.” Yosuke’s setting the futons out, and once he’s done, he crawls into one and says, “So? Did you give it any thought?”

“What?”

“Fuck you, partner. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Why should I know?” he asks.

Yosuke turns away from him. Souji sits on top his futon, unsure how to proceed. He's annoyed by this silly game. Yosuke acts as though Souji should just _know_. They aren't that connected.

“The city, right?” he says.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Yosuke turns over, rests his head on his hand. “I’m going to ditch this place with its fucking sickos. You agree with me, right?”

Because the city’s full of straight people, Souji wants to say. He laughs. There’s something uncurling inside him, like a small flame.

“You really think that?” he says. He touches Yosuke's chin.

"Partner?" Yosuke says.

"Yeah," Souji says. "Partner." And then he kisses him. Yosuke’s sputtering and arguing, but Souji gives Yosuke a _push_ and presses his weight against Yosuke.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Yosuke demands. Souji cups his hand around Yosuke’s groin. “F-fuck! I’m not like that!”

Souji doesn’t know why he doesn’t care.

Or rather, he does. He can see himself reflected in Yosuke’s eyes, dark and shadowed, eyes yellow and an ugly smirk swathed across his face. He grabs Yosuke by the hair and kisses him again, harder.

“I’m sick of the way you talk about other people,” he says, and _pulls_ at Yosuke’s hair. “And the way you keep calling me ‘partner’. It’s time to put that mouth of yours to good use.”

“Snap out of it,” Yosuke says. Almost pleads, as Souji yanks him up to his knees by the hair. He stands, and pushes his boxers down. He pries Yosuke’s mouth open with his fingers. Looking steady into Yosuke’s eyes, he says, “No.”

 

\---

 

Rise’s the only one who meets him at the train station.

"Senpai,” she says, and pushes her glasses up her nose. “Are you leaving so soon?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking about going back into the TV,” she says, plaintively. “Just in case there are any clues in there.”

“There won’t be,” he says.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Don’t talk to me,” he says. The train pulls up, and he steps onto it. Rise chases him, stares up at him defiantly. Her eyes burn with something that makes his chest ache. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“What happened to you?” she asks.

He stares, because he doesn't know how else to answer.

The door closes, and the train moves. He falls back into a seat, and closes his eyes.


End file.
